


Five Times Doctor Samantha Carter Spent Christmas with Colonel Jack O’Neill of the SGA and One Time She Didn’t

by sjhw_tolerance (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/sjhw_tolerance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This year's challenge is to write a Christmas story based on an alternate version of Sam and Jack."<br/>Small summary: I think the title says it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Doctor Samantha Carter Spent Christmas with Colonel Jack O’Neill of the SGA and One Time She Didn’t

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 12th story in the annual Sam and Jack Yahoo Group Christmas fic challenge. This story is set in the Point of View universe with that Sam & Jack, so it naturally ends on a sad note, but I hope that won't stop anyone from reading the story. Merry Christmas! 
> 
>  
> 
> One more time for good measure: It's set in the Point of View universe and just so we're clear, we *all* remember how that ended, don't we?
> 
> Originally posted December 2011

Five Times Doctor Samantha Carter Spent Christmas with Colonel Jack O’Neill of the SGA and One Time She Didn’t

Christmas #1

It was Christmas Eve and Doctor Samantha Carter was surprised at how many people were still on base. In her experience, everyone escaped as early as they could on Christmas Eve, but she would be the first to admit that she was still pretty much a novice when it came to how the military mind worked. She stopped just inside the door to the cafeteria, only to quickly step aside when two airman brushed past her, the two almost simultaneous “Excuse me, ma’am” still sounding foreign to her even after a month at the base.

The normally non-descript and gray cafeteria looked foreign to her too, filled as it was with laughing and talking people, the sound of Christmas music over the PA system just barely audible above the cheerful voices. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make the room festive for what had been billed as a ‘Holiday Luncheon’ in the mass email that had arrived in her inbox two weeks earlier. The institutional tables were covered with red or green tablecloths, fake evergreen and poinsettia centerpieces gracing each tabletop. A colorful string—or maybe three or four—of multi-colored lights along with yards of garland, decorated the food service line. There was even a Christmas tree, loaded with ornaments and twinkling brightly, in one corner.

The invitation had surprised her, even given her somewhat limited encounters with General West, she wouldn’t have expected him to approve of such an activity. But then again, there were some traditions nothing could stop. The gathering did seem like everything an ‘office’ Christmas party should be, but that still didn’t help her feel any more welcome. Not that she felt unwelcome…it was just that they were military and she wasn’t. And even though she’d grown up on military bases all over the world, she was still trying to figure out her place in the military machine.

Never one to be faint of heart, Samantha decided to go through the food line, grab some goodies and then head back to her office. If anyone asked, and she sincerely doubted anyone would, she could say she’d been to the party. Smiling cheerfully and nodding to the few people she recognized, Samantha joined the slowly moving food line, her tray soon filled with turkey with all the trimmings, the perennial green bean casserole and a healthy serving of pumpkin pie. Accepting the cup of punch handed to her by a smiling airman who looked vaguely familiar, she started making her way back to the door when she heard a female voice call her name.

“Doctor Carter! Over here!”

Looking around in surprised, Samantha saw one of the other civilians involved in the project waving to her from a table near the Christmas tree. The large table where Doctor Barbara Shore sat looked full and when Samantha paused uncertainly, it was like Shore could read her mind. She waved her arm again and reached over to a vacant chair at a nearby table, pulling it closer. “There’s room!” she called out.

Realizing there was no escape now, Samantha squeezed through the crowded dining area to the table. She stood awkwardly with tray in hand while Shore fussed. “Kawalsky, scoot over!”

One of the men, a lieutenant if she was reading the rank insignia right, looked up from his heaping tray and muttered, “Oh yeah, sure. Sorry, ma’am.”

He started to scoot his chair to the side when the man sitting opposite of Shore said, “Don’t bother, Kawalsky, I’m done.”

The man stood up and Sam felt her heart skip a beat when he looked at her. He had to be one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, or at least the handsomest she’d seen so far on the base. His brown hair was cut short, of course; his eyes were a matching dark brown, set in a ruggedly tanned face and she estimated him to be at least ten years older than her. A slight smile that hinted of some hidden joke twitched at his lips and she almost shivered at the unaccustomed tingle when he rumbled, “You can have my chair, Doctor Carter.”

With a half-salute and that same mocking smile in place, he picked up his tray and left. Samantha sank down into the now vacant seat and watched him; he made his way effortlessly through the crowded room, the party-goers melting out of his way. He also looked just as fine from the rear too, she decided, taking a last appreciative look at his butt before he disappeared out the door. Realizing she’d been staring, Samantha hastily looked down at her tray, retrieving her napkin and trying to act casual when she asked Shore, “Who was that?”

Barbara’s eyes sparkled knowingly and Samantha almost blushed. “Oh, that was Colonel O’Neill. You haven’t met him yet?”

Samantha shook her head; his name was familiar and she was sure she would have remembered meeting someone as…memorable as him. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m surprised,” Shore commented. She leaned in closer, acting like she had some big secret to impart. “Rumor has it if we ever get that thing to work; he’ll be leading the team that goes through to the other side.”

“I can’t believe it! They’re going to send a military team?”

Barbara shrugged. “If you can make it work.”

Samantha snorted. “Oh, I can make it work,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “But if I have anything to do with it, this device won’t be used as military weapon.”

“Yeah well, Doc,” the man who had been identified as Kawalsky chimed in. “General West might have something to say about that. And as for O’Neill, don’t mind him, he just doesn’t care for scientists.” He looked at her then, his boyish face creased with a genuine smile that just stopped short of being a leer. “I like scientists just fine though. Especially female ones.”

Samantha couldn’t help but smile at the grinning man, in spite of his comment. He held out his hand to her over the table. “Lieutenant Charles Kawalsky, ma’am. Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain.”

“Doctor Samantha Carter,” she said, accepting his firm handshake. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Call me Charlie.”

“As long as you call me Samantha.” Picking up her fork and poking experimentally at the green bean casserole, she asked, “Why doesn’t Colonel O’Neill like scientists?”

“Well,” Kawalsky said, “according to the Colonel they’re always getting into trouble.”

Samantha bristled a bit. “That seems a bit unfair,” she commented.

Charlie shrugged and grinned. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” He winked at her and added, “I’m sure he’ll adore you in no time at all.”

 

Christmas #2

Samantha had just put the last finishing touches on her Christmas tree when the doorbell rang. She frowned, it was ten in the morning on Christmas Eve, her father wasn’t due into town until that evening and she couldn’t imagine who could be at her door. The bell sounded again just as she reached the front door. Glancing quickly through the front window, she saw a non-descript sedan parked in front of her house and a figure on the porch wearing a dark overcoat, the collar turned up against the lightly falling snow, with an Air Force cap on his head. Her frown deepened and she was tempted to just ignore the man, but her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door.

“Lieutenant Kawalsky,” she said coldly, when she recognized him. “What brings you here?”

He grinned at her, evidently not put off by her less than welcoming attitude. “Actually, its Captain now, ma’am.” She didn’t respond and he continued, adopting a formal tone. “Your presence has been requested at the SGA, ma’am.”

“SGA?”

“Stargate Agency,” he clarified.

“Stargate?” she questioned.

Kawalsky shrugged. “I can’t really say anything more, ma’am. But I guess I can tell you that it’s what we call that big round thing.”

That was enough, she knew what he meant. “Tell General West I have nothing more to say to him.” She started to close the door against the snow that was swirling in through the open door, but Kawalsky put up a gloved hand, stopping her.

“General West isn’t with the program anymore; General George Hammond is in command now.”

She wavered, trying to find any deceit in the Captain’s face. When she had stormed out of West’s office three months earlier after she had discovered their true intent for the device, she had vowed to never get involved in any military endeavors ever again, no matter how enticing. She had been furious that her work was viewed merely as a means to destroy potential threats and not as a tool for scientific exploration and discovery. “I don’t know, Charlie,” she said. “What makes this General Hammond any different than West?”

“You’ll have to come and see for yourself, ma’am,” he told her. He grinned then and added cheekily. “Would it help if I told you Colonel O’Neill said to say please?”

That bit of information intrigued her. Rumors had been running rampant before she’d left regarding the Colonel and his failing marriage and his whole role in whatever happened once they got the device working. But beyond her unwanted fascination with the Colonel, she was intensely curious in what they had discovered at the other end of what she had decided could only be a wormhole to another part of the galaxy. If West was gone and if this Hammond had a more open mind, maybe they could work together. Making up her mind, she said, “Come on in while I get my coat.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Kawalsky agreed with a huge smile, stomping his feet on the mat to clear off any snow. “You won’t regret it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The normally talkative Captain was quiet during the drive to the base and Samantha didn’t press him. She was required to leave her coat and purse at the first checkpoint, where she was given a visitor’s badge. And then to her surprise, they had to pass through three more security points before they were on the elevator that would take them down to Level Twenty-seven. “When did all this extra security become necessary?” she asked Kawalsky.

He looked a little uncomfortable, but finally said, “I think I’d better let General Hammond explain that.”

Accepting she wasn’t going to get anything more out of her escort, Samantha was even more curious when they finally got off the elevator. There seemed to be a lot more activity, voices coming from open doors, people passing the hallways, most of whom she didn’t recognize, along with a few she did. They passed by the briefing room door, which surprised her, but then Charlie stopped at the next closed door and knocked. A voice called out, “Enter.”

Kawalsky opened the door and stood aside to let her enter. “General Hammond, sir—Doctor Carter.”

“Thank you, Captain. That will be all.”

Samantha stood in the doorway and waited, taking the moment to study the man behind the desk. The bald, portly, one-star general looked to be about her father’s age, the impressive array of medals on his chest and the stern expression on his face at odds with the otherwise grandfatherly air he projected. “Have a seat, Doctor Carter.”

The door closed and Samantha sat down in one of the chairs in front of the large desk and calmly waited.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Doctor. I believe you already know Colonel O’Neill.”

Samantha gasped softly in surprise when a figure emerged out of the corner behind her. “Oh yes, we’ve met,” Jack O’Neill said, a half-smile on his face as he sat down in the chair next to her.

Samantha felt like she’d just been ambushed, but she kept her cool and calmly returned O’Neill’s mocking smile before looking back at Hammond. “You got me here, General. And now I’d like to know why.”

“I will remind you, Doctor, that what you are about to hear remains classified and you are still bound by your non-disclosure agreement.” Samantha nodded, she hadn’t expected anything different. “Very well. We find ourselves in a position where we need your expertise.”

Samantha felt a swell of triumph with the general’s confession but suppressed any show of emotion, keeping her expression neutral. “My position on use of the device—”

“We call it the Stargate now,” O’Neill interjected.

Hammond’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, so Samantha ignored O’Neill and continued. “My position hasn’t changed. I will not participate in any program that only wants to use the Stargate as a military weapon.”

"I appreciate your position, Doctor. I won’t deny that the former command was under orders to neutralize by any means necessary whatever was found at the other end of the Stargate. But all that has changed now.”

“Really?” She was skeptical; a leopard didn’t change its spots, especially a government leopard.

Hammond looked over at O’Neill and the Colonel spoke. “We didn’t find a threat; at least an immediate one.”

“What did you find?” she asked eagerly, forgetting her resolve to stay cool and uninterested.

“An empty temple and pyramid, similar to the ones at Giza,” he gave her lop-sided smile. “Or so I’m told. We also found an abandoned mine and settlement.”

“And these,” Hammond finished. Opening a folder, he slid it across the desk to her.

“This is fantastic!” Samantha looked eagerly at the photos, which displayed dozens of glyphs like the ones on their Stargate, all in varying configurations of seven. “Where did you find these?” she asked O’Neill.

“In an old, abandoned section of the mine. Our archaeologist believes it was part of an older, earlier settlement that was abandoned hundreds, maybe thousands, of years ago.”

“Well,” she said, reluctantly setting the photos back down. “This is all very interesting but I don’t understand why you need me.”

“We can’t make them work, Doctor.”

Samantha picked up the top photo again, which showed a panorama of a large chamber, the walls and ceiling covered with the glyphs and she carefully studied it, her mind racing, when it suddenly came to her. She turned back to O’Neill. “You said these were carved thousands of years ago?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up a little straighter in the chair. “Doctor Moravec estimates they could be anywhere from fifteen hundred to well over two thousand years old.”

Samantha smiled and tossed the picture back down on Hammond’s desk. “I can make them work for you,” she announced. “But not if you’re only going to use the knowledge to conquer and destroy other worlds.”

Hammond sighed heavily and O’Neill said, “Told you she’d say that.”

“After Colonel O’Neill and his team returned from their mission, their findings and all the research were reviewed. After careful consideration, it was decided by the President that while the Air Force would still maintain control of the Stargate and bear responsibility for any military action, its primary purpose would be for exploration and discovery.”

Samantha could hardly suppress the excitement building insider her, but carefully kept it hidden and merely nodded.

“That’s not to say that if there’s a threat, we’ll ignore it,” O’Neill added.

It might be a fine hair she was splitting, but she wasn’t a military brat for nothing and she desperately wanted to be back in the program now. “I can live with that.”

Hammond smiled for the first time. “Very good, Doctor. Welcome back.” He stood and Samantha took that as her cue to stand as well, O’Neill also got to his feet. “We’ll expect you back on January second.”

She would have started tomorrow, even if it was Christmas day, but she merely shook the hand he offered and said, “Sounds good, sir.”

“Colonel, will you see that Doctor Carter has transportation home?”

“Yes, sir.”

Still feeling somewhat dazed by the whole morning’s events, Samantha followed O’Neill out into the hallway. He paused at the briefing room door and said, “If you wait here, I’ll send Kawalsky along to take you back home.”

He turned to leave and Samantha placed her hand on his arm, stopping him. He gave her an inquiring look. “What was it like?” she asked.

O’Neill smiled, the first genuine smile she’d ever seen on his face and her heart did several flip-flops before settling down to a slightly faster rhythm than normal. Her resolve to never get involved with anyone in the military wouldn’t last long under the promise of a smile like that and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was still married when he drawled, “More fantastic than you could ever believe.”

She searched his face, not sure if he was serious or just teasing her, but she could see it in his eyes—he meant every word. When he raised an eyebrow, she flushed, letting her hand drop from his arm. And then with one last, devastating smile, he said, “Merry Christmas, Samantha,” and walked away.

“Holy Hannah,” she murmured, watching him until he disappeared around a corner before going into the briefing room. The large bank of windows beckoned her and walked over to them, gazing down at the vast room below. The Stargate was quiet and majestic, but she found her thoughts drawn back to the enigmatic man that was Colonel Jack O’Neill and she wondered just what had she gotten herself into?

 

Christmas #3

“You have got to be kidding.” Samantha looked around the briefing room table, the four other men there—including Jack O’Neill—studiously avoided making eye contact with her. It seemed the only one who could look at her was General Hammond.

“Doctor,” Hammond said, using what Samantha recognized as his most patient voice, “I don’t like it any better than you do. But if we have no other options; you’re the only one who can verify the purity of the trinium and the only way you’ll be accepted by the local population is if you’re—”

The General paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word when Lieutenant Ridgeway interjected, “Bonded.”

Hammond frowned, but continued. “Bonded to the leader of SG1.”

Samantha looked over at the leader of SG1, who still wouldn’t look at her. Ever since her return to the SGA a year earlier, she had sensed a softening in his attitude towards her, a sense which had been born out over the following months. He showed up in her lab weekly, usually with coffee and a pastry or cake, under the pretense of discussing the various projects and their progress, which they did but more often than not, they also discussed life outside the SGA. He still wasn’t her type, she had to remind herself every time her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. But he could be quite charming and she enjoyed his visits and actually found herself missing him when SG1 was away on one of their many off-world missions. But this? This was something altogether different.

Taking a deep breath, Samantha closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she looked directly at Hammond. “You’re right, of course. We need that trinium and if this is the only way we can get it….” The relief in the room was palpable; it was like all five men had let out a collective breath.

“Don’t worry, Samantha,” Kawalsky said, his face filled with concern. “There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

Samantha smiled briefly. She wasn’t worried about going off world or even meeting aliens for the first time. She was worried about being forced to pose as a wife because some alien culture demanded it. And not just anyone’s wife, but a military man she found way too attractive, despite her resolve to never become involved with anyone in the service again. But she would if it was the only way to get the trinium they so desperately needed. “When do we go?” she asked, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice.

O’Neill finally spoke. “The sooner the better, General.”

“Very well. If there are no objections from the rest of your team, you’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”

The day after tomorrow was Christmas Eve, but Samantha didn’t say anything. If her father was going to accept her invitation to spend Christmas with her in the Springs, she would have heard from him by now. There wasn’t any reason for her to stay home and wait for him. “Works for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Doctor Carter…Samantha…I swear, I had no idea….”

Samantha turned her back on the huge bed that dominated the otherwise small room and summoned up a smile, she was an adult, she could handle this. It had been a long and trying day and she wasn’t sure why she had thought she’d have her own quarters for the night, given the Chalteans’ obsession with domestic bliss. She didn’t even feel like she could really even blame the Chalteans, in fact she almost felt guilty deceiving the sincere and very earnest people who considered family the most important thing in life—and the bond between mated partners to be a sacred covenant. Too bad they hadn’t known ahead of time that the Chalteans had a much more inclusive culture and same-sex bonding was not a taboo and this whole charade could have been avoided, though she had to smile slightly at the thought of Jack and Doctor Lee posing as a bonded couple.

Samantha sighed heavily; it was too late now and both she and Jack would have to make the best of the situation. It was just one night…. “I’m going to wash up,” she declared, grabbing her pack from where it lay on a low table.

The washroom was sparse and functional, but it had everything she needed. She didn’t linger but washed up quickly while considering all the sleepwear options open to her. In the small pack of personal items she’d brought she had included a sleep T. Of course, she had expected to sleep alone and since she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in her clothes, the sleep T it was. Taking off the regulation black T-shirt and her bra—no way was she even sleeping in that—Samantha put on the modest knee-length nightshirt, tucking it as best she could into her BDU pants and then putting the jacket back on. Carrying her boots and pack, Samantha left the relative safety of the washroom and made a beeline towards the far side of the bed. She caught a brief flash of Jack disappearing into the vacated washroom.

Stripping back down to just the sleep T, Samantha slid beneath the covers just as Jack emerged from the washroom. Turning on her side away from him, she closed her eyes and listened as he moved about the room, heard him turn what had to be the lock on the door and then the lights went out. It was inky black in the room and she took a deep breath trying not to tense up and waited; she heard the rustle of clothing and she wondered briefly what he was going to sleep in before she decided she really didn’t want to know. And for good measure she reminded herself once again that he wasn’t her type just as she felt the mattress give and the covers lift and he was in the bed with her.

The mattress jiggled and the covers shifted around as he got situated and she breathed a sigh of relief when he finally stopped moving. In the quiet of the dark room she was acutely away of his quiet breathing and she was sure she could already feel the bed warming up from the heat of his body when his low voice sounded only inches from her ear. “Samantha? Good night.”

“Goodnight,” she managed to murmur. Forcing herself to relax, she began repeating the litany ‘It’s for the trinium and he’s not your type’ over and over until she finally fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Samantha woke slowly, the bed was so comfortable and she was so warm. Nestling deeper, it took several long minutes for her half-asleep mind to process that part of the reason she was so warm was due to the body pressed up against her back and the strong arm wrapped around her, cradling her against a very masculine chest. It all came flooding back to her in a huge wave that quickly doused her good feeling at waking in Jack O’Neill’s arms.

Knowing full well she should move, she hesitated, reluctant to disturb the still sleeping man. She had no idea what time it was and besides—she rationalized—it wasn’t like what happened had been deliberate. She was smarter and wiser now and she wasn’t about to get involved with another career military man, no matter how sexy and gorgeous…and smart and kind and funny. “He’s not your type,” she whispered desperately, finally finding the strength to cautiously begin easing out of his arms.

“What?!” Jack suddenly sat straight up in the bed and Samantha found herself staring up into his deep, sexy eyes with his hair adorably mussed and sticking out at odd angles. He gazed down at her and in that one unguarded moment Samantha almost gasped aloud at the dark fire she saw burning in his eyes before he was once more in complete control. His lips twisted in that slight half-smile she knew so well. “Merry Christmas.”

Samantha smiled, feeling more confident than she ever had when it came to dealing with Jack O’Neill. Taking her cue from him, she agreed with a cheerful, “Merry Christmas” before swinging her long legs out of bed, scooping up her clothes and disappearing into the washroom with the not so unwelcome thought that maybe he was her type after all.

 

Christmas #4

Stopping just outside the partially open door, Samantha squeezed Jack’s hand tightly. “I’ll be here if you need me,” he told her, his fingers caressing hers as she slipped her hand free.

“I know,” she murmured. Summoning up her best smile, she took a deep breath and went through the door. The nurse had tried to prepare her, but it was still a shock to see him lying in the hospital bed, so pale and frail, attached to monitors with wires and tubes anchoring him to the bed.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, forcing a cheerfulness into her voice she didn’t feel.

His eyes slowly opened and a weary smile touched his face. “Hi, kiddo.” He held out one of his arms and Samantha crossed over to the bed and leaned down, giving him a kiss on the cheek. His skin was too dry and too warm beneath her lips and when she cautiously hugged him; her heart broke at how insubstantial he felt. Her always larger-than-life father was a pale shadow of himself.

Visiting her father in a hospital room wasn’t how she had imagined spending Christmas with him, but it would have to do. Pulling the only chair in the room over to the side of the bed, she sat down and took his hand. “I got here as fast as I could. You should have let me know sooner,” she chided him gently.

“There was nothing you could have done, sweetie. Besides, I didn’t want to take you away from that big fancy deep radar telemetry job you have.”

Samantha ignored the slight jab at her job; she had long ago accepted the fact that she had let her father down when she hadn’t gone into the military. It seemed a million years ago now that she had vowed to never get stuck in the same trap as her mother had, with a husband who was never home, raising two kids on her own. All of which seemed highly ironic now, given who was waiting out in the hallway.

“You’re more important than any job,” she told her father, realizing that she actually meant it. He smiled weakly, his eyes closing and his breathing too fast and too shallow. “How are they treating you here?”

“If you want to know, Samantha, just ask.”

She sighed, still obstinate and pigheaded to the very end. “Your nurse told me you’ve refused further treatment.”

“My kidneys are shot from the chemo and I’ve already maxed out on radiation.” He slowly opened his eyes and she had to blink quickly to stop the tears that threatened at the sadness and acceptance she saw in his face. “It’s time to stop, honey.”

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she whispered. Still holding his hand, she rested her cheek against his hand.

“It’s okay, Sam,” he murmured. “I’ve had a great life. All I want now is for my kids and grandkids to be happy.”

“I am happy, Dad,” she reassured him. She smiled then, at least she hoped what happened next wouldn’t disappoint him. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She released his hand and went to the door, opening it wide. “Jack?”

 

Christmas #5

It was funny, Samantha though, as she rinsed off the last plate, putting it into the dishwasher. As a child, whenever she’d dreamed about what Christmas would be like once she was all grown-up and married, she’d always imagined a house with lights gleaming from very room, gay decorations covering every surface, the smells of fresh baked cookies and other holiday delights drifting through the house, along with the happy voices of adults and children, too many to count and filling the house with joy and laughter. Yet here she was spending her first Christmas as a married woman alone; not that she would trade what she currently had for childhood dream.

It wasn’t Jack’s—or anyone else’s fault—that he and his team were in quarantine until Fraiser determined whether SG1 had brought back any deadly contamination with them from P3R-233. She hadn’t even been allowed to see him, the isolation rooms off-limits to everyone except Fraiser and her staff. So, she had reluctantly gone home and the doctor had promised that they’d be quarantined at the most for seventy-two hours, which meant Jack would be home by the twenty-sixth at the latest….

On the bright side, they didn’t have any company or family coming. Though it would have been nice now, she mused, even if it would have meant lying to them and using the measles exposure cover story that the men with families had been given. But, with her Dad gone, her brother and his family at his in-laws and Jack with no close family, it would have been just the two of them. She tried not to think about her Dad being gone and even though they’d never had the best relationship, she missed him terribly—and she missed Jack.

Heating up some leftover coffee from earlier in the day in the microwave, she poured a generous amount of Bailey’s into it and shutting off the kitchen lights, she went into the living room. Their Christmas tree was beautiful—a real one, because Jack had insisted, with new ornaments they had bought together along with ones she had from her mother. The lights twinkled merrily and the scent was heavenly. Curling up on the sofa and wrapped in a cozy afghan, with a stack of her favorite Christmas movies to watch, Samantha settled in to spend her lonely Christmas Eve at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, baby, let’s get you into bed.”

“Jack?” she murmured groggily. Rubbing her eyes, she finally managed to open them and her husband’s face came into focus. “Jack! What time is it?” she asked in confusion. She was on the sofa still, all tangled up in the afghan, the last movie she remembered watching still in the DVD player, the menu screen looping endlessly. Jack’s arms went around her and she clung to his shoulders when with hardly any effort, he lifted her—afghan and all—off the sofa. She sighed in pleasure and rested her head on his shoulder, not really caring anymore what time it was or why he was there, just thankful that he was home.

Jack carried her down the hall to their bedroom and explained along the way. “Fraiser finally released us. Except for Carruthers, since he was exposed the longest, but she’ll probably let him go tomorrow.”

“What time is it?” she asked again, still feeling confused.

Jack lowered her down onto the bed and turned on the bedside lamp. “Not quite eleven.”

“I don’t even remember falling asleep,” she chuckled, glancing at the clock on the bedside stand that glowed ten-fifty-eight at her.

“Busy day?” he asked. Samantha watched as he moved about the room, taking off his watch and emptying his pockets before he sat down on the foot of the bed to remove his boots.

“Oh,” she answered, “not too bad. I worked most of the day, going through the notes and video that I could access from P3R-233. But I need Carruthers’ help with the translation. Is he sure that one symbol means destruction?”

The question was barely out of her mouth when Jack abruptly moved, looming over her, a teasing smile on his lips. “Samantha,” he complained, “the last think I want to talk about after spending the last three days in quarantine with the guy is him or his translating abilities.”

She didn’t take offense because she was having her usual reaction to him, and evidently he felt the same, his body hardening and his eyes darkening. “I missed you, sweetheart,” he rumbled, settling his heavy body more firmly against hers.

“I missed you, too,” she murmured, tenderly caressing his cheek before sliding her hand to the back of his neck coaxing him closer.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, capturing her lips in a kiss that exploded along her nerve endings. This wasn’t the first time they’d been separated, his job meant he was gone for days at a time, and maybe it was just from the heightened emotions of the season, but her need for him bordered on desperation. She loved him so….

“Jack, please,” she urged, pulling him frantically at his clothes and struggling out of her own. She moaned in relief when naked flesh finally met naked flesh, her hands running up and down his back, cradling his hard body with her arms and legs. He was kissing her and stroking her, his touch like accelerant to the fire burning inside her. “Jack,” she pleaded again, tugging at his hips and shifting her legs, opening herself to him.

He groaned, low and deep in his chest, and she clung to him when he shifted, hooking her legs over his arms as he braced himself over her and thrust deep. The pleasure was exquisite and she cried out, her need for him so fundamental to her life as her next breath. He moved powerfully, but she wanted nothing less, demanding everything he had to give until their passion exploded, leaving her spent and sobbing in his arms.

“Samantha!” His voice was low and rough—and trembling. “Samantha? Are you okay?” He cradled her face between his large hands, his eyes filled with worry and concern.

“Yes, dear man,” she whispered, smiling tenderly. “I just love you so much.”

“Always,” he growled, burying his face in her throat.

Samantha cradled him in her arms as he slowly relaxed against her; she glanced at the clock—it was just past midnight. She sighed in contentment; her life couldn’t be any more perfect than it was at that moment. Stroking his hair, she murmured, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

 

Christmas Eve #6

“Aaagghh!! I can’t!” Samantha groaned as she felt her belly start to harden and she braced herself yet again.

“Come on, Sam, pant!”

“I need to push!” she snapped.

“Not yet, just a bit longer.” Janet Fraiser’s voice floated hazily up to her. Unfortunately, those weren’t the words she wanted to hear.

“You can do it. Just stay with me here. Look at me.”

She glared at her labor coach, but complied, panting in unison with him as the contraction swelled through her, leaving her limp and exhausted in its wake. “I can’t do it anymore, please…” she pleaded. She wanted to be strong, she needed to be strong, but this had been going on so long.

“You can do it, Sam.” He pressed a cold washcloth to her forehead, running it gently over her face, wiping away the sweat mingled with tears.

“Oh god,” she wailed. “I can’t!” She squeezed his hand when she felt another one starting.

“Yes you can! No giving up now!’

The urge to push had become almost overwhelming. The contraction built rapidly and she concentrated on panting and then she heard the sweetest words ever. “Okay Samantha, the baby’s crowning. I want you to push now.”

Her birthing partner immediately moved behind her and lifted her torso up, helping her as she began to push, his voice reassuring in her ear. “You’re almost there! Just a little bit longer!”

The next contraction hit almost immediately and relief flooded her when she finally pushed. It took three contractions before she finally felt the release of all the pressure and heard her baby’s cry and Janet’s exclamation. “It’s a boy!”

Charlie lowered her back down, his face beaming. “A boy! How about that!”

Samantha was exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time. She had her baby…their baby. “Is he okay?” she asked. Ever since she had found out she’d been pregnant during her time in the alternate reality, she had been borderline terrified that her baby would be adversely affected, in spite of Janet’s assurances that all the tests indicated the baby was just fine.

“So far, everything looks good,” Janet reassured her. “There we go, let’s get you sorted out here,” she said, now obviously talking to the baby.

There were several minutes of activity where she couldn’t see anything and she started to get scared. “Let me see him, Janet,” she pleaded.

A red, crying, wriggling bundle of waving arms and legs was placed in her arms and she gazed in awe at her son. His little face was all scrunched up like he was going to cry again but when she cooed, “There, there, no need to make such a fuss,” her son responded, his eyes opening and searching for her; one tiny fist still waved in the air, curling around her finger and she marveled at the perfection of such a tiny being.

“He looks like Jack,” Charlie declared, from over her shoulder.

Brushing away at the tears that threatened, Samantha whispered to her son, “Of course you look like your father.” Samantha felt Janet shift her legs and cover her back up. “What time was he born?” she asked curiously, unable to take her eyes off her precious son; it seemed like an eternity since she’d gone into the delivery room.

“1205.” The woman’s voice was tender when she added, “Merry Christmas!”

THE END


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